I missed the San Jose Grand Prix, again. Not that it's really a problem. Unlike last year, where I just sat on the couch the entire weekend, missing both the Grand Prix and the Garlic Festival, this year I opted for a cooler end of July weekend. I headed for the aquarium in Monterey.
This is the second time I've been to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, and while I wasn't rushing as much as the first time, I didn't get to see all of it. But, I did hit the highlights.
The boyfriend and I decided we wanted to see the Sharks & Myths exhibit before it ended in September. Since I will be out of state for most of August, we thought we'd better go while we had the itch to. Plus, when we weighed the options (hot downtown San Jose, pavement, and more heat from the cars, vs. the cool ocean breezes of Monterey and fish) we decided it wasn't much of a competition. The exhibit did not disappoint, though we did sort of rush through it because it took us a while to find it. And, I kept getting distracted, wanting to show the boyfriend, who had never been here, all of the cool exhibits.
My first stop in the aquarium, as last time, was the sea otter tank. It's central in the aquarium, and it's my favorite spot. Otters of any kind have long been a favorite of mine, since my first visit to Bays Mountain's otter exhibit in Kingsport, Tennessee. I could spend hours sitting and watching the otters float, swim, groom, and play. One of the things that made me fall in love with the Bay Area is that you are likely to see these playful creatures in the harbor or at the beach (or, if you don't see otters, there's a great likelihood of spying on sea lions or seals). One of the things that made me fall even more in love with the boyfriend was the night I saw an otter in the harbor, and he just enjoyed sitting there with me watching the otter for however long I wanted to be there. There was no rushing, we just sat there and watched the little guy play and twirl around in the dark, inky water.
Next, I drug him into the Jellies: Living Art and the Outer Bay exhibit. We spent lots of time there watching the huge bluefin tuna, the sunfish, a few sharks, and other miscellaneous fish swim around.
We did see lots of sharks during our tour. There were hammerheads and Galapogos sharks in the Outer Bay exhibit, we finally found the Sharks & Myths exhibit that had not only sharks but lots of rays, and we found our way to the shark tank after a brief stop watching the Kelp Forest (which had some sharks as well, and an ugly, ugly eel) which featured some beautiful leopard sharks as well as 7-Gill sharks and some more hammerheads and rays.
Unfortunately, I forgot my camera again this trip. So, for now I'll just have to post an image of the sharks at the Audubon Aquarium in New Orleans (images from 2003). Next time, oh there will be a next time, I will not be without a camera. Although by then, the blacktip and whitetip reef sharks, zebra shark, pajama catshark, and all the other species that were featured in the Sharks & Myths exhibit will be gone. But maybe they'll have another Great White by then! And, maybe I can get there earlier so I can devote an hour or two to chilling and watching the otters play...
I've long wanted to do a photo series on the south, but never could figure out exactly what I would do. Whatever it was, I wanted to portray the south in a good light -- portray my culture as I see it, not as much of the rest of America has seen it up until the last couple of years: Backwards, slow. Hillbilly/red-neck country. Barefoot and pregnant at the age of 16.
In my excitement to go home, I've been thinking about this a lot, and I've come up with one of the reasons I love the South is it's timeless. No, not stuck in time, but it just has a timeless quality. It's a place of family, friends, neighbors and gatherings. A place where you can take the time to enjoy the small things, the things you often don't notice on a day to day basis. It's a place of just stopping by to say hi and meeting new people who you find out you may already know through so-and-so or from such-and-such. It's a place that still has carbs, fat, and calories (and it's not a sin to consume these). A place where a person cooks meals that were passed down from great-grandmother to grandmother to mother. A place where you can feel the dampness of the air on your skin and you can hear the bugs chirping in the morning and evening. It's a place where I can run barefoot through the grass, or through the dirt. A place that's laid back and casual -- it's okay to walk into the convenience store wearing a t-shirt over your bathing suit, hair in a tangled, pulled up mess, slathered with sunscreen. A place where you leave your front door unlocked and when someone knocks you just yell, "Come on in!" Of course, they're already half way in, because the knock is just meant to announce that your here -- you know you're welcome.
So, I've decided that's it. I want to capture the timeless qualities. Maybe in early September you'll see that, maybe you won't. Art is, after all, shaped by a person's experiences. If I'm successful, the photos will show the South that I know, even to that person who's only contact with the South has been Jeff Foxworthy and Civil War history.
If anyone is wondering why the frog is in some of the pictures -- He's the Spotless Cleaners Frog from Johnson City, Tennessee. He apparently hopped in my bag as I was leaving Tennessee and hitched a ride to Tahiti. Only then did he hop out and make his presence known!
Ahhh... the real airport! How silly of me to think the place we landed and were picked up was the airport! So where is this real airport located?
Well, instead of taking a left at the road, you take a right. And we had actually rode by it on the bikes (the "real" airport is also within walking distance). It was the place where I had seen the roosters -- yes, that's roosters, at the airport.
The airport was an open air structure, with a few benches (very similar, thus far, to where we landed). It had two check-in counters and one baggage-weighing-doo-hickie. It also had what I am assuming was a snack bar (it wasn't open, and this was one of the two flights out for the day) which is what you see pictured above.
As we wait at the airport I see more puppies. One a guy is carrying in a tote bag. This pup goes along on the plane with us, sacked out underneath the seat in front of his owner (no crate, and he's out of the bag at this point). The other is really a pup, probably about 9 or 10 weeks old. He was fiesty but friendly.
When we land in Tahiti we're greeted by Marama tour guide guy and he shows us the sites of the airport. We attempt to walk towards town a little ways, as the pearl boutique woman had told us about a good Chinese restaurant, but alas, it wasn't open. So we head back to the airport and enjoy their cafeteria-style food.
We get a half-bottle of wine, a bottle of water, each of us have chicken and rice, and we split a chocolate mousse. Now, this was by far the best airport food I've ever had -- a very tasty meal (good restaurant quality). But, for $70, it should be! Yes, $70 for dinner, in the airport. Man, this is worse than Disney (but, the quality of the food is much better than Disney, so I guess it all evens out).
We continue to roam around for a while, wandering in and out of the shops. We spot a kitty and stop to pet it. Finally, we decide it is time to grab our bags and head through the security checkpoint.
This is where it gets fun. Remeber how it was a breeze getting into the country? Well, leaving was a different story. I walk up to customs and hand them my passport, the form I received on entry, and my boarding pass. The man starts looking at my passport, which wasn't stamped.
"Did you come in to Tahiti via air?" "Yes, I came in here, this airport." "Not by boat?" "No, by airplane. I came in here, at this airport. Right back there." I point. "They gave me that form and waved me through." "Are you with someone?"
At this point I wave Raju over, and he proceeds to ask him the same questions he asked me. Then he assk me the questions again. Then there's some discussion with another guy, who walks off to a back room to have more discussion. When he comes back, they discuss a little more. Then:
"So where is your form?" he asks me, referring to Raju's form he has in hand. "I gave it to you, it's right there." I point to where he has now laid down my passport, boarding pass, and form. "You didn't give it to me. Where's your form?" "Yes, I did. It's right there. Underneath my passport, underneath my boarding pass!" At this point I'm starting to get slightly irate, and I'm really trying to refrain from reaching my arm through the window and picking up the form (my arm has a mind of it's own and it already half-way in). I know this probably won't end good if I keep up.
Luckily, he sees the form, and my boarding pass at this point. He shakes his head, stamps both of our passports, and lets us go through. After some quick security checks of our baggage, we are in and able to continue wandering through shops until time for our plane to board.
Unfortunately the food wasn't as good on the flight back, and I was a lot more fidgety this time. But, 21 hours later, I was stepping out of a cab and walking through my front door, being greeted by the Milo. And that, my friends, was my Polynesian adventure.
Our last day on the island we visited a pearl farm. We boarded the boat and zoomed across the lagoon, getting a good look at the huts/houses built out in the middle. Some were decrepit, some were veritable mansions.
As we pulled up at the farm, the first thing I noticed was a dog! Black doggie was hunting out something in the water. It ended up just being a piece of string, but at this point I didn't care about the pearls, I just wanted to pet the dog.
And I got my chance. There were actually two dogs, Maya and Sebastian. Maya was the black dog I had seen down at the water. Both dogs were extremely friendly and wanted to be petted. As I listened to two presentations about Tahitian pearls, one in French and one in English (still not understanding a lick of French) Maya came over to be scratched and petted. It made me not so sad to be leaving the island, because she had those same big eyes that Milo has, and I couldn't wait to get home to him.
After the presentation was finished, and we knew everything there was to know about the pearls (it was like a classroom presentation, but being the geek I am, it was cool), we went into the working area and saw the process first-hand from a grafter. She showed us how it was like being part dentist/part gynecologist as she peeked inside an oyster to see if it had the correct coloring (this would be the dentist part), then pried open another shell to implant the nucleus with the meat that gives the pearl its color (and this would be the latter part).
Apparently I looked like the best mark for being grossed out by eating an oyster, because the woman leading the tour kept teasing me about eating one. I love oysters, so I was definitely game for trying one that was this fresh. I think the entire group (with exception of Raju) was suprised that I ate it. It was good, but it looked nor tasted like any kind of oyster I've ever had. It was served to me on a mother of pearl shell with a little lemon juice. The meat was tougher and more chewy, instead of the slimy oysters we eat here. Think sea scallop. But it was tasty, and I wouldn't have turned down a dozen of them with a bottle of wine for sure.
After the oohs, aahs, and giggles that the blonde, American girl had eaten the oyster, it was back to the boat for us, zooming across the lagoon, and back to the hotel room to pack. We did stop by the shop to buy a few pearls, then we had our last meal at the resort.
Which brings me to the coconut pie. For days I had tried to order the coconut pie for dessert. The first day I ordered it they had just ran out. Each subsequent day, they didn't have it. But today, oh yes, today they had the coconut pie. So I eagerly ordered it -- not because I love coconut pie, but I had been craving what I couldn't have.
But, my hopes were dashed. Before I could have my coconut pie, reception called and said we needed to leave immediately in order to make it to the airport. What??!! It's within walking distance and there's nothing there! Why would I need to leave an hour before my flight? Why can't I have my pie?
"Oh, you're not going to the airport you came in at. You're going to the real airport today."...
"Where can you go on the island?" "You can take the road -- left or right."
I've been wanting to ride a bike since February. Now if we could just get the bikes before the Frowning French Foursome (just kidding, but the one couple just looked so unhappy the entire trip).
One morning after our snorkel and breakfast, we managed to grab a couple of bikes. Off we went - with my white, cotton miniskirt billowing in the wind. I felt I should have some bread in the front basket or something. We rode back down to the palm groves near the airport, where the crabs darted out in front of us every few seconds. Then, we turned and went the other way -- that would be the right way.
We passed a small boutique, which we rode out to on the way back (I wish I had bought that keshi necklace -- it was pretty on me). We continued riding and saw some of the roosters that I had heard from the hotel. We rode some more, bouncing around on the rocky road like a couple of kids, until we were in this weird, barren piece of land as far as the eye could see. Just rocks to the left, rocks to the right, and ocean beyond. You could look back and see signs of life, palm trees, etc. and you could look forward and see a little oasis of palm trees, but both seemed so far away. So we decided to turn back, as we were sweaty, and it was getting hotter out.
We rode a few more times during the trip, but the first time was by far the most fun. Now I definitely need to buy a bike, even a cheap one, so I can be transported back to childhood anytime.
Who would have guessed some free bread would entertain us for hours? It did, and that's no exaggeration.
We made friends with these fishies, to the point that we could just splash our hands in the water and they would come over. But it was awesome with the bread, because we even managed to get some of the larger ones won over as well.
Raju and I spent the better part of a day sitting on the beach and feeding the fish. He got brave and stuck a piece of bread between his toes. As the fish dove for the bread, they tickled his legs (freak!).
As we got up to head back to the room, we walked over the bridge next to where we had been. I looked down and saw a snake that looked something like this:
Holy crap! I watched it swirl it's way through the water... I was a bit mortified.
"Look," I said, pointing. "That's a sea snake -- and it's somewhat pretty. That means it's probably really, really poisonous, right?"
"Yep."
Just a few minutes ago my feet were in there! I'm not sure if the snake pictured above is the exact type of snake or not. It was black and white striped. Raju said it also had a little dot in each white stripe, which I don't remember. However, a quick google search and I found this snake, who is indigenous to the South Pacific. Apparently their venom can kill a person within 5 minutes, but they aren't inclined to attack or come around when people are splashing in the water.
We took the rest of our bread back to our room, and fed the fish from the coffee table. Truly amazing how quickly they make it over when they hear/smell food plopping in the water (can fish smell?).
While sitting on the deck one afternoon, I noticed a stretch of beach a distance away and thought we should go check it out. I had decided we could easily wade through the water at the places the beach seemed to disappear.
So off we went, towel and sunscreen in hand and flip flops on. Wading through the water wasn't bad at first, but then I realized I had brought the wrong flops for the job. I had thought this through, the flip flops I wore yesterday in the water to wade to the motu didn't dry quickly -- they absorbed water (then proceeded to stink, which I will figure out in another day or so). So today I decided to wear the black flippers, the water should shed right off.
And it did! It made them slick and slippery. So I'm trying to wade across the coral and not cut my feet, but my feet keep slipping off the flip flops. So I ended up cutting my foot, but not too bad. At least I was wading in salt water, which would be good for the wound.
We make it to the area above, which was a little over the halfway point to the beach. The image above is a natural pool that had formed right off the lagoon. Basically a big drop-off all the way around. We're not sure how deep this one was, because both of us were too chicken to jump in. This is the first time I have ever uttered the words, "I can't see the bottom. I'm scared to get in there...". Jumping in Boone Lake is one thing -- the worst that might happen is a fish nibbles at your toes. The South Pacific has lots of poisonous and sharp-toothed sea life.
So we didn't get in this pool, and we were sidetracked in our mission to go to the beach. Behind us was a road, which we followed:
(This is a picture looking back at the road and the lagoon after we had traveled on it a little ways.)
There were lots of crabs scuttling across the road, and a few days from now when I rode my bike down through here I almost flattened two or three of them (ironically, I'm making crab salad today for lunch). They would hear my bike and scuttle across in front of me, like they were trying to commit suicide.
Back to the original story -- we follow this road only to discover we are back at the airport, just in time to watch the new arrivals step off the plane. The bag boys came flying in on their tractor, and the golf carts were there, ready to shuttle the new inductees down the palm covered road...
The rest of the days in Manihi sort of blurred together. They were fun, to be sure. We moved from spot to spot sunning, making fun of the French that looked as if it were such a bother for them to be in this paradise. So, for now I'll just focus on some of the activities, then recap the last day.
One of the things that filled our days was snorkeling off of our balcony. Part of the reason we didn't mind waking up at 6 am every morning (we never did adjust to the time) was because it was by far the best time to snorkel. The waters were calm, no one was out, and the fish were feeding. It's a great way to wake up -- go jump in the water.
There were so many colorful fish -- the bannerfish and the picasso fish (my favorite) were two that were plentiful around our bungalow. Along with larger versions of these guys, which we never did find out what they were called:
One morning, while I was watching from the deck, Raju got a very closeup view of the bannerfish. They swarmed around his face, the entire school, not more than 6 inches away. I decided they thought he might be one of them since his mask was yellow and black. I unfortunately didn't have my camera with me at the time, and I didn't want to miss watching that to run in and get it. So, no pictures of the bannerfish, but you can see some on Google images.
Another bit of interesting sea life were the mollusks -- I suppose sea scallops maybe? They had white, wavy shells, but what was really cool was the area between the shells, where their mouths were, were brilliant colors of jade green, electric blue, and hot pink. The mollusks would also bury deep into the coral. I had to do a double-take as I swam past one piece, because the mollusk had burried in so deep that it matched the coral's color (no brilliant colors) and it looked like a mouth on the coral that was talking to me!
But, the scariest of all things we saw -- sharks! We saw quite a few different kinds. From the deck we spotted what was either a lemon shark or a nurse shark. It was a light rust-color and about 5 feet long. That thing could move fast! It looked like it was just leisurely swimming (i.e. not after anything), and it was booking it.
I've decided what I saw while snorkeling was a blacktip reef shark. Seeing him definitely got my heart started, but he seemed to be just chillin' a ways off, and he didn't pay any attention to me. So, while I was slightly freaked out, I decided it was okay.
However, the next day, I ran into Fric and Frac. If you look really close in the image below you can see one just left of center, and the other above him, near the top towards the right.
These guys scared me, although they were only a foot and a half long. If my heartrate was elevated before, now it was racing. Fric and Frac were a team, and I swam directly into their faces. They were very interested in me, every time I turned around they were right there, swimming towards me then darting away, like they were trying to test me. On this day, I ended up not staying in the water very long. I checked out an awesome site of bannerfish feeding on some coral (tons of them, it was neat), then I booked it back to the ladder and got the heck out of the water. This was on Tuesday (we left on Wednesday). It was my last time in the water, because Fric and Frac kept hanging out around our bungalow. I must have smelled tasty.
It was either Tuesday or Wednesday when I was feeding fish that I realized how fast these things are. Fric and Frac were still hanging around, and they decided to get in on the action. If they were around when I dropped bread, they had it. They were lightning fast and could whip their bodies around in a fraction of a second. It made me realize that if that reef shark had decided he wanted to try a bite of me, it wouldn't have mattered that he was dead still and 10 feet away. He could have been to me in 2 seconds flat -- probably less.
We never have figured out what type of sharks Fric and Frac are. They had some odd ridges across their head, but they were definitely of the shark family. We've searched the internet fiendishly since being back, but neither of us have come up with the answer.
Let's see, where was I... Oh yes! The Manihi Airport! Day 2 of our travels.
So we land, and all we see is a small almost-hut. It's a shady spot with some thatching over it and a couple of benches. So, to recap, hut, mini-runway strip next to ocean, and a fire truck that says Aerodrome. Oh, and the baggage cart -- which is a tractor with a small trailer behind it.
There are also hotel peeps waiting with golf carts. Thing is, they expected us a couple of weeks ago (uh-oh). But, they'll take us to the hotel so we can get this all worked out. We both get lei'd and we're on our way.
When we arrive, we are seated at the bar next to the pool and given fruit juices with an amazingly artistic garnish consisting of palm leaves, flowers, pineapples and cherries. The hotel staff seem confused about us being here, but "That is not your problem to worry about." They seem confused about how long we are staying, but I guess that's not our problem either. We enjoy our drinks, and then we are taken to our overwater bungalow, #49, the one on the end (yay!).
It's smooth sailing from here. Noel delivers our bags and tells us he will be dancing and singing tonight at the restaurant. We wouldn't miss that for the world! (There's no where else to eat :-) )
We noticed throughout the trip that most of the employees seemed to have multiple jobs. For example, Noel delivered bags, danced, played the ukulele in the band, and cleaned the pool (in a wetsuit!). The woman who worked in the spa giving massages, wraps and facials also worked the cash register at the store.
The dinner show was fantastic. Dancing ladies, dancing men, dancing kids. The kids were precious, watching the other dancers intently to figure out what they should be doing. Not much is cheap on this island, but like California, the wine is extremely inexpensive.
Day 2 of our trip. We awoke in Tahiti around 6 am, which will be a trend for the entire trip, but not a problem. I was definitely ready to go check out the beach. I suspected it was a black sand beach from what I could see from the balcony, and I had never been on a black sand beach before.
Breakfast was a smorgasboard of choices, and I'm suprised I wasn't sick after eating so many different things. Rolls, croissants, jams, fruit, fish, salamis and cheeses, fruit juice and coffee. Sweets and savorys. The croissants were great with this coconut puree that I never could find in a store (I should have stolen some from the hotel).
After breakfast, we took a quick walk on the beach. It was neat, but I couldn't wait to get to Manihi and see the crystal clear water. So back to the room to grab our suitcases and head back to the airport. This morning the tour peeps were waiting for us -- Angel and her driver. Angel gave us some history lessons on the island, as well as talked a little politics, language lessons, and tips on buying pearls in Manihi. One of my favorite people I met on the trip, we covered a lot on that 10 minute ride to the airport.
No problems at the airport -- we checked in, checked our luggage, and wondered around a bit. One thing I regret is not getting pictures of the locals shipping their products out at the airport -- lots of produce, etc. It was an area we stumbled upon when we were walking around, and I almost felt as if I shouldn't be there, so we headed back to our gate.
Though the flight to Manihi was short (only a little over an hour) I was squirmy today. Day 4 on a plane was too much. We passed over some other atolls as we made our way to Manihi -- it's amazing that there is life out here in the middle of so much ocean.
Finally, we are descending and before I know it we are on the ground. As we come to a screeching halt on the runway and start to turn, I see there is no room for error here. If we hadn't stopped exactly where we did, we'd be in the ocean right now. We deplane at the Manihi Airport:
Amazingly, I was comfortable on the plane ride to Tahiti from LA. I had spent the past two days on planes criss-crossing the country, and even though I was excited to be going to Tahiti, I didn't know how I would fare for day three of flying, especially on the 7 1/2 hour plane ride.
Well, there were no problems there. They keep you really busy on these long flights. First they hand out forms. Then they hand out headphones. Then they hand you menus. Then drinks. Then food. Then coffee. More drinks, more food, more coffee, more wetnaps. Then the mobile duty free shop. And plenty of movies, games, magazines too.
Landing in Tahiti was a little overwhelming. We breeze through customs or whatever it's called (which, will be problematic later on). We're thrust outside into a sea of people waiting for their friends and loved ones. People talking, kiss-kissing cheeks, playing ukuleles and putting lei after lei on the home-comer. Some of these people had leis up to their noses.
In the midst of all this we're supposed to be able to find our guide who would transfer us to the hotel. No luck... Raju wonders off to call the tour company, and in the meantime I'm left watching the sea of people. Of course, while he's gone, the tour people come, but they weren't expecting us, and they don't speak a whole lot of English. I speak no French. While trying to explain my boyfriend has gone to call them, I learned they don't understand "boyfriend". For the rest of this trip he will be my husband.
Finally, Raju comes back, and he has more luck with the tour people. We're in business and ready to roll!
The tour guy tries to find some tunes that we would like on the radio -- we end up listening to something that sounds like Pass the Dutchie in what I imagine is French? Not sure, but the tune is now stuck in our head.
As we breeze down the road and through lots of circles, I see lots of small cars, le Feng Shui Chinese Restaurant, and a few stray dogs. I was amused by the dogs, because the other times I've been out of the country I haven't seen dogs running around, but Raju says this is fairly common in big cities. Seeing the dogs put a smile on my face and reminded me of the Milo.
We arrived at the hotel we were staying at for the night, and again we're greeted by a throng of people (I guess they were catching the 11 pm flight out that we would be on next week). Luckily, the hotel was expecting us (a rarity in this trip) and we were in our room in no time at all. We enjoyed a Hinano, marveled at the size of our balcony, and watched the downpour of rain that came after we were safely inside.
It was nice to fall asleep to the sound of a downpour.
This time last week I was just finishing my morning snorkel beneath our bungalow. Today I'm eating fruit and cheese reminiscing about my trip, wishing I was still there.
Art is about experiences. It is about the experiences you, as a viewer, bring with you. It is about the experiences I've had over my lifetime.
So I'm giving you a glimpse into my life and experiences. This diary is a compilation of current events, reminiscences, thoughts, and even a few posts about my pieces.
Feel free to share your experiences with me via the comments links.
A southern girl, displaced, but loving every minute of it. A drifter through life, living in the moment or just enjoying that moment. An artist who forgoes the thinking to just create. An impassioned soul, but only for the briefest of periods... until the next new thing comes along. A comedian, well, I amuse myself anyway. :-)
